


The Demonic Bookshop of Soho, London

by WylieCoyote98



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Demon!Shane, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 17:31:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19468744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WylieCoyote98/pseuds/WylieCoyote98
Summary: Ryan and Shane fly to Soho, London to investigate what is being hailed as one of the hottest beds of demonic activity in Europe. The A.Z. Fell and Co book shop, where one demon, in particular, spent most of his time, and one angel made his living.





	The Demonic Bookshop of Soho, London

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a collaboration with my friend from tumblr, officialpavelchekov. There are so many people who love both Good Omens and Buzzfeed Unsolved, we thought it would be a fun idea to combine the two things. We hope you all enjoy this.

Ryan was shifting uncomfortably in his plane seat. He was anxious, but that wasn’t anything new if you asked just about anyone else who knew him. He was also frustrated because right next to him, Shane Madej was laughing about something on the TV screen in front of him while scarfing down a bag of peanuts. Despite everything that Ryan had told his friend about this location Shane was, naturally, unafraid, downright excited.  _ Excited.  _ The most haunted place in all of Soho, London and Shane was  _ excited _ . Sometimes, Ryan wished Shane would just pretend to be afraid. 

“This can’t be worse than the Island of Dolls or the Goatman Bridge,” said Shane, nudging Ryan with his elbow. “We’ll be on a busy street in London in the day time. How scary can it really be?” 

“That’s just it,” Ryan pressed, “even on a busy street in the day time, people  _ still  _ reported feeling uncomfortable in and around the bookshop. Weird smells.” 

“Weird smells?” Shane echoed.

Ryan nodded somberly. “Lots of reports of weird smells.”

“Well, that’s not very nice.” 

Ryan blinked. “What?” 

“They’re insulting the demon,” Shane pointed out, “what if that’s just how he smells naturally and he can’t help it.” 

Ryan sighed heavily and reached for his headphones and put them in. 

“We’re probably hurting his feelings!” Shane exclaimed. 

Ryan turned the volume up and closed his eyes, settling back into the plane seat. He didn’t need Shane to support him. Marielle supported him. His other friends supported him. And at the end of the day, it wasn’t really that big of a deal. Ryan would never change his mind as much as Shane would never change his no matter what proof he saw. It would always be a glitch in the flashlights or an old building settling in. Their differences in opinion, Ryan figured, was one of the things that kept people coming back to their videos. As much as his oversized companion annoyed him half to hell, Ryan couldn’t think of anyone else he would want to do this with.

By the time they had landed in England, Ryan had calmed down a little. His hands had stopped shaking at least. 

“Who did you say owned this book shop?” Shane asked as they stood waiting for their taxi. 

“A man called A.Z. Fell,” Ryan said.

Shane raised an eyebrow. “What does the A.Z. stand for?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan confessed. 

“Everyone has a first name, Ryan.” 

“I didn’t say he didn’t have a first name. I just said I didn’t know. I couldn’t find it.” 

“Oh. Someone clearly didn’t look hard enough,” Shane teased. 

Ryan rolled his eyes. “It was strange. It was like… it was like the guy didn’t even exist. There were no records of him anywhere, but he’s been working in Soho for as long as anyone can remember.” 

“Maybe he’s a ghost,” Shane offered. His eyes widened. “Or maybe-”

Ryan groaned, “Shane, please…” 

“-this Fell guy is the demon!” 

“Shane take this seriously,” Ryan said. 

“I am taking it seriously. Look at me taking it seriously.” Shane paused. “I just think…” 

“No,” Ryan cut him off. 

“ _ I just think _ ,” Shane pressed, “it’s real lovely that we get to be back in London for our one and only demonic investigation of the season. We had a great time here last time.” 

Ryan managed a smile. “The Viaduct Tavern,” he said, reminiscing.

“The execution breakfast!” Shane laughed. 

“The execution breakfast…” Ryan said and he shuddered. “Yeah, maybe we don’t bring that up again.” 

“Hey,” said Shane, “if Mr. Fell really is a demon, maybe he got to go to one of those.” 

“Maybe,” Ryan agreed flatly. 

The taxi pulled up. “Let’s go,” Shane said, “I personally can’t wait to experience a haunted Barnes & Noble.” 

At that comment, even Ryan had to snicker. 

“Oh hey, do you have your holy water?” asked Shane as they climbed into the taxi. “Or did they confiscate it at the airport?” 

“I know you’re just messing with me,” Ryan said.

“I’m not,” Shane insisted. 

“But I made sure to hide it well in my suitcase,” Ryan concluded proudly. “I’ve got a whole flask of it.” He flipped his backpack around and patted the front pocket. “Right here and ready to use.” 

Shane nodded his approval. “Good. God forbid anything happen to your holy water. When do we check this place out anyway?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Ryan replied, his hand over the pocket of his backpack to reassure himself that yes, his holy water was still there. He was already starting to feel nervous again. One thing was for sure, tomorrow was going to be a  _ long  _ day.

**Meanwhile**

When Crowley sauntered into the bookshop that morning, he could sense right away that something was off. Aziraphale was fretting and rearranging stacks of books, pausing to survey them for a moment, and then arranging them all over again. 

“What’s the matter with you today, angel?” Crowley asked, taking in the sight of the now spotlessly neat shop, as opposed to its usual clutter. Aziraphale startled as if just noticing him for the first time, halting his mad dash and wringing his hands. 

“Ah Crowley,” he began, his face betraying...embarrassment was it? “It would seem my shop has attracted...some unwanted attention...”

“As in...?” Crowley prompted, raising his eyebrows at the sheepish angel. 

“I only wanted to make sure no one bought my books! I didn’t mean for them to think...” Aziraphale defended himself hastily before trailing off. He knew Crowley would find the whole situation hilarious. “They think it’s haunted...” he finally admitted with a sigh. 

There was silence from Crowley and then, just as he had expected, the demon burst into laughter. “The humans think your shop is haunted?” he exclaimed. 

“Oh, it’s not funny, Crowley,” Aziraphale fretted, “to make matters worse, there are two young men coming to...well, investigate I suppose...and someone told them...” the last part would put Crowley into hysterics. “That there’s a demonic presence here…”

There was a mischievous, conspiratorial smile that began to stretch across the demon’s face. “You don’t say,” Crowley said. 

“I’m serious. This isn’t funny,” Aziraphale scolded. 

“Really? Because it seems pretty funny to me.” 

“What if they find out about you.”

“So what? You can just miracle them away. I’ve seen you do it before.” 

If Aziraphale could sweat, he would have begun to sweat very much at this moment. “The thing is,” he said, “the thing is… these humans have a reputation.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“They’re something of celebrities,” Aziraphale elaborated, “someone would ask questions if they just disappeared.” He paused. “They’re very popular on this thing called…” the angel frowned. “Now what was it called…You… you something.” 

Crowley wrinkled his nose as if he’d just caught the scent of something and he didn’t particularly enjoy it. “Youtube,” he said, “I remember that one. I created it myself.” 

And he had. Crowley had also been responsible for ProJared, the Paul brothers, and James Charles. Some of his proudest accomplishments. They stirred up quite a bit of drama, the lot of them. Of course, Hell never did see it that way. It was just another failure in their eyes. Crowley never cared much for what Hastur and Dagon and Beelzebub thought. It was his master Satan’s approval that only ever really mattered, and he had always been a favorite of Satan. But that was then and this was now and the only being whose opinion mattered now was Aziraphale. Anyway, nowadays Youtube had become more and more of a nuisance to Crowley. Too many sappy videos about kittens and dogs and little children. Oh, how times had changed. In more ways than one. 

“If you’re so worried,” said Crowley, “I can come by the shop when these men arrive. I could be a sort of backup.” 

Aziraphale considered this. “I’m afraid it’ll only make things worse,” he sighed. 

“Well things can’t get any worse than this,” Crowley replied, patting Aziraphale on the shoulder. “When are they supposed to be here?”

“Tomorrow afternoon…”

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

**The Morning Of**

Crowley had come to the bookshop as early as possible, mainly because Aziraphale had called frantically, wanting help cleaning the bookshop up  _ again _ and making it look less  _ haunted _ . Aziraphale had told him that the investigators weren’t due to arrive until the afternoon but it was 10:37 in the morning when he first heard someone entering the shop.

“Hey, demons, it’s us, the boys!” A jovial, American voice exclaimed.

“Ah, you’re bringing back the classics,” another voice, also American, commented, not as confident as the other and laughing nervously. 

Crowley stiffened, his entire body going rigid. Something like ice had settled into his heart and was slowly freezing the rest of him over. There was a hiss pushing at the back of his throat climbing up and up and slithering past his lips. At his side, Crowley’s fists clenched. 

Aziraphale sensed his friend’s distress. “What’s wrong, my dear?” He asked and before he even finished, Crowley was grabbing Aziraphale by the arm. “Crowley?”

“Get behind me, angel,” Crowley snarled, lips curling back. 

“Crowley,” said Aziraphale under his breath, “you’re being ridiculous, they look like perfectly normal Homo Sapiens to me.” 

“Well,” snapped Crowley, “one of them isn’t. I’m surprised you can’t feel it.” 

There was a pause and then Aziraphale brightened both metaphorically and literally. “Is this one of those moments where something is…spooky?”

Crowley narrowed his eyes. “What? No!” he spat and he glanced over his shoulder before tugging Aziraphale into the back room of the book store. When they were alone, he looked around in a paranoid kind of way Aziraphale had never seen before. 

“Crowley, what’s going on?” the angel pressed. 

“That tall one out there,” Crowley whispered, “he’s one of mine.”  
Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “You mean from...?” He pointed downwards. 

“Afraid so,” Crowley murmured. 

“Who is he?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Prince of Hell.”

Aziraphale frowned, his eyebrows furrowing. “I thought Beelzebub was the Prince of Hell.” 

“He’s even worse,” Crowley said, “he left Hell before Eden. Beelzebub was merely filling in.” 

“Oh dear…” said Aziraphale. He glanced over his shoulder. The two humans- no, the human and the demon, were poking around the bookshop. “What are we going to do? Do you think he’s here for you?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know? You just said he was one of yours.”

“If you forgot, I’m not exactly on good terms with Hell, they aren’t really sending me updates anymore,” Crowley snapped. 

“Mr. Fell?” the small human called out. “Are you here? We’re here for the interview.” 

Aziraphale peaked his head out. There were multiple other humans filing into the bookshop, carrying cameras and other expensive looking equipment. “ _ Crowley, _ ” Aziraphale said, gaping. “Are they… are they  _ all  _ demons?” 

Crowley sniffed the air. “No,” he muttered. “Only  _ him _ .” 

“Well, what does he want?” Aziraphale questioned. 

“I told you, I don’t know!” 

“We have to do something,” Aziraphale whispered. 

“I can’t do any miracles with the Prince here,” Crowley explained. “He would just cancel me out. You have to do something.”  
Aziraphale was appalled. “ _Me?”_

“Yes, you.” 

“But I’m the nice one!”

“We’re past that,” Crowley pressed. “I’m not asking you to kill him, I’m asking you to get us out of this.”

Before Aziraphale had the time to react, the human ducked his head in and exclaimed, “Mr. Fell! There you are.” 

Aziraphale froze. He turned slowly, a careful smile on his face. “Hello,” he said. “I wasn’t expecting you this early.” 

“Oh, just between you and me, I wanted to get this out of the way as soon as possible.” The young man looked both ways as if getting ready to cross a busy street. “I try not to mess with demons.” He took a step forward, his hand extended. “I’m Ryan Bergara. My friend Shane is here somewhere. He went to have a look around.” 

Aziraphale hesitantly took Ryan’s hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

“Are we doing the interview in here?” Ryan mused. 

Aziraphale glanced over his shoulder. Crowley was lurking, a seemingly permanent frown on his face. 

“Oh,” said Ryan, “I’m sorry. Who’s your friend?”

“That’s…” Aziraphale began awkwardly. 

“Anthony,” Crowley said stiffly. 

Aziraphale gave him a look and mouthed ‘really’? Crowley shrugged. The angel turned back to Ryan and smiled again. 

“Shane, can you come introduce yourself to Mr. Fell and Anthony?” Ryan called over his shoulder. It was then that the tall demon rounded the corner into the back room and made eye contact with Crowley. 

“Crawley?” said the Prince of Hell. 

Crowley froze. If a demon could get goosebumps, Crowley would be covered in them. 

“It  _ is  _ you! It’s Crawley!” the Prince of Hell laughed, walking past a bewildered Ryan to pull the other demon into a hug. “How many decades has it been, old pal?” 

“Old…” began Ryan.

“Pal?” said Aziraphale. 

Crowley was motionless. His sunglasses slipped down his face, revealing his bright yellow reptilian eyes. 

“H-holy shit,” Ryan gasped, taking a step back.

“I haven’t seen you since you were a serpent,” the Prince of Hell said, pulling back but not letting go of Crowley’s shoulders. 

Crowley was speechless. 

“Shane,” said Ryan, “what are you talking about?” He paused and looked around. “Hold on. Where are the rest of the crew?” 

Shane, the Prince of Hell, waved a dismissive hand. “They’ll be alright.”

“What did you do to them?” Aziraphale said, appalled. 

“They’re all enjoying a nice day off somewhere in…” Shane paused, thinking. “Tahiti?” 

“Tahiti?!” Ryan exclaimed. 

Shane finally released Crowley and turned to his friend. “Ryan,” he said, “there’s something you should know.”

Aziraphale went to Crowley’s side, curling his arm around the demon’s. “Are you alright, my dear?” 

“No,” Crowley huffed, leaning against Aziraphale. “What the heaven are you doing on earth,” he asked Shane. 

“Oh you know,” Shane said, “a little of this, a little of that.” He smirked. “Lately I’ve been working on this little pet project called Buzzfeed.” 

Crowley’s jaw dropped. “That was _ you _ ?” 

“The one and only!” Shane exclaimed. 

“Dagon told me she did it,” Crowley said. 

“She’s a demon, what do you expect. We all lie.” Shane smirked. “Come on, Crawley, you can’t tell me you haven’t stolen another demon’s ideas.” 

There was a crashing sound as a stack of books came tumbling down. Ryan had backed into them in a daze. He looked as if he was going to pass out. “Another… demon?” Ryan gawked, the cogs in his brain turning a mile a minute. “Shane…” 

“Here’s the thing, Ryan,” said Shane. “You know how the flashlight in the Sallie House answered when I asked it to turn on if the demon didn’t like us? And how we didn’t get a response from Annabelle? And how…” 

“ _ Yes,”  _ Ryan said. He was shaking. 

“Well,” said Shane, spreading his arms. “Surprise.” 

Ryan, promptly, passed out, and he would have hit the ground with a painful THUD, had a pillow not miraculously miracled its way under his head. 

Shane cleared his throat and turned to the angel and his fellow demon. “Seriously, how have you been Crawley?” 

“It’s  _ Crowley,”  _ Crowley said through his teeth. 

“Really? I always liked Crawley better. All squirming at your feet. Real fitting for a snake, I thought.” 

“Well he’s not a snake now,” Aziraphale said. 

“Oh,” said Shane, as if noticing Aziraphale for the first time. “And who are you?” He paused, sniffed, and then his eyes widened. “Ah. Wha-? No way!” Shane chuckled. “You’re an angel! An actual, honest to Satan angel! Crawley, what are you doing with an angel? Oh, our side’s not going to like that.”

“They already know,” Crowley said. “They’re not...the biggest fans. What about you? Walking around with a human like that?”

“I’m the  _ Prince  _ of Hell,” Shane pointed out. “I can do what I want. The rules are different for me.” 

“Of course they bloody are,” Crowley grumbled. “What are you doing here?” 

“Looking for demons,” Shane said. “And I found one.” 

Crowley frowned. “I’m trying to be serious here ...your highness,” he added before he could stop himself. 

“I am being serious!” Shane pressed. “Yeah, it’s this show I do. Maybe you’ve seen it. It’s called Buzzfeed Unsolved. I and the little guy go around looking for demons and ghouls. It’s all very amusing.” 

“That’s… that’s it?” Crowley said in disbelief. “That’s all you do? You’re telling me that the Prince of Hell is on earth not to tempt souls for Satan, but to film a Youtube series for  _ Buzzfeed? _ ” 

Shane shrugged. “Yeah. Why not? I like it here. I’ve grown fond of earth.” He glanced down at his sleeping companion. “And of the humans.”

“So…” said Aziraphale. “You’re not here to drag Crowley back to Hell?” 

“Why would I do that?”

“Long story,” Crowley admonished.

“Try me,” said Shane.

Aziraphale opened his mouth, only to be cut off by Crowley, “Don’t get him started.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What now? We go our separate ways?”

“Actually,” said Shane. He made a vague gesture with his hand and Ryan began to stir. “Could you both do me a favor for a friend of mine?” 

**Still the Morning Of**

Ryan sat, head on his hands, staring at the two supernatural entities in front of him. The two supernatural entities stared back. All his life he had been preparing for this moment, and now that it was here, he hadn’t any idea what to do. Behind him, Shane gave a meaningful cough. 

“Give me a minute,” Ryan said, turning his head to glare at the taller man. “This is a big deal for me.” Ryan turned around again. “You’re… really a demon? And you… you’re an angel? This isn’t some elaborate prank?”

“I can assure you, my dear boy,” Aziraphale said, “we are very real.” 

“Uh huh,” said Ryan. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was real, that Shane was...well…

“I assume you have many questions,” Aziraphale continued, “and of course, we’ll do our best to answer.”

“We will?” Crowley almost groaned before catching the look Aziraphale shot him. “I mean…yeah, sure, of course, we will.”

“I never thought having a conversation with a demon would seem so...normal…” Ryan wondered out loud. He couldn’t help but think back to the previous demon investigations they had done, in the Sallie House, the Bellaire House, the Annabelle doll...in all those encounters he had been so afraid, clutching a bottle of holy water and urging Shane to respect the demons. That all seemed so...laughable now. “Can I really ask you anything?”

“ _ Yes, _ ” Crowley replied. He was suddenly met with a barrage of questions that almost seemed to blend into each other.

“How long have you been on Earth? How old are you, anyway? Can you really possess people? What did you do to become a demon?”

“Oohhh six thousand years is it, angel?” Crowley looked to Aziraphale, who nodded his confirmation that yes, they had indeed been on Earth for six thousand years. “I’ve no idea how old I am. Yes, theoretically, I could possess someone but I never have. He has though,” he added, gesturing to the angel sitting next to him, who blushed at the memory of his discorporation. “And...well...I suppose you could say I hung around with the wrong crowd.”

“What about, you know, evil deeds? What exactly do demons do?” Ryan asked curiously, throwing a glance back to Shane. 

“Evil Deeds? Not all demons are evil, you know,” Aziraphale stated, reaching for Crowley’s hand, squeezing it. “Actually, when you get down to it, Crowley is rather a nice-”

“ _ Anyway _ ,” Crowley cut the angel off before he could thoroughly ruin his reputation. “There really isn’t much to it.” He grinned. “You must have come in on the M25.” Ryan nodded. “All me.” 

Ryan didn’t look particularly impressed, though, behind him, Shane gave a thumbs up. 

“Oh and this one time, you’ll like this,” Crowley continued, “I brought down every mobile phone in the London area.”

“You what!?” Shane exclaimed, so suddenly, he startled both Ryan and Aziraphale nearly out of their seats. “That’s hilarious!” 

“I’m so glad  _ someone _ appreciates it,” Crowley said, recalling how unimpressed Hastur and Ligur had been when he had told  _ them  _ about it. Now, look at him. The Prince of Hell himself was giving Crowley his approval.

“You’ll have to forgive his excitement. This is the first time we’ve spoken to another demon since, well since the whole Antichrist debacle,” Aziraphale added with an almost affectionate, apologetic glance to Crowley.

“Since the whole  _ what _ ?” Shane raised his eyebrows. “I guess I’ve been out of the loop for a while...did you say  _ Antichrist _ ?”

“Oh, you didn’t know about it?” Aziraphale asked, “I would have thought...you know...with the whole Prince of Hell thing…?”

“It’s been a long time,” Shane said sheepishly, shaking his head and laughing. “Wow Crawley,” he paused. “Sorry, Crowley. You have to fill me in on  _ this _ .” He gestured for Crowley to follow him to the main part of the bookshop. “Come on, demon to demon. I have to hear this.” Crowley shot a look to the angel beside him before rising to follow the Prince of Hell.

“Do be careful, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly. 

“Don’t worry about me,” Crowley assured. 

Ryan was staring at the floor, rubbing the back of his head. His lips were moving, repeating the word over and over again: demon, demon, demon. 

“Are you alright, young man?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Not really,” Ryan confessed.

Aziraphale miracled a glass of water and held it out to the self-proclaimed ghost hunter, but the sudden appearance of the object out of nowhere only seemed to stress him out more so Aziraphale apologetically placed the glass on his desk. 

“You think you know someone,” Ryan stammered. “You work with them for five years, you make conversation and jokes, and you start a show with them where you travel all over the damn country.” He shook his head. “He would always make fun of me for believing in all of this supernatural stuff. Even with all the proof. When all this time…” 

“I’m sure he wasn’t doing it to hurt you,” Aziraphale offered. “Humans don’t always know how to react to things they can’t explain. Perhaps he was concerned. Supernatural beings can never be too sure. I had an encounter with one man who thought I was a demon and he immediately attempted to exorcise me.”

“Shit, I’m sorry that happened to you,” Ryan said, cringing, although, he had suddenly become very aware of the holy water sitting in his backpack. The holy water that he had often held close and wielded like a weapon and the guilt surged through him like a tidal wave. “I guess if I’m being honest,” he sighed, “I would have reacted in a pretty similar way.” 

“No one would really blame you,” Aziraphale said. “It’s a perfectly human reaction.” 

Just because it was true, that didn’t mean that Ryan felt any better about it. 

“I’ve always thought that being human is one of the best things to be,” Aziraphale continued. 

Ryan half smiled. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat. “You said not all demons are evil,” Ryan said. “Does that mean that not all angels are good?” 

Aziraphale felt a sharp sting somewhere deep inside of him. He could still feel the ghosts of Uriel’s hands latched onto his lapels, pushing him into the wall; he could still see the looks of disgust from Michael and Sandalphon; he could still hear Gabriel’s words, reverberating through his head:  _ lose the gut _ . 

“Mr. Fell?”

The angel cleared his throat and smiled weakly. “No, I suppose not.” 

Sensing the shift of mood in the room, Ryan decided it was best to change the subject. He glanced over his shoulder, then back to Aziraphale. “Can I ask you something… personal?” 

“Personal?” said Aziraphale, quirking his head to the side. 

“Yes.”

“I don’t see why not.” 

Ryan folded his hands together and leaned forward. “What’s it like… you know… dating a demon?” 

Aziraphale blinked slowly. For a moment, he wasn’t sure he had heard the human correctly. “Excuse me?” Aziraphale said. 

“You and Crowley,” Ryan elaborated, “how does the whole angel and demon being together thing work out? I saw you holding hands. Does it burn him every time he touches you?” 

“No,” Aziraphale said, “what would make you think such a thing?” 

“Holy water destroys demons,” Ryan pointed out. “I would think that there’s nothing holier than an angel.” 

Aziraphale shook his head. He was very flustered. “I do not burn Crowley,” Aziraphale said pointedly. “I’m sorry, dear boy, did you say dating?” 

“You  _ were  _ holding hands.” 

“Friends hold hands all the time,” Aziraphale defended, though his voice lacked any real conviction. “Don’t you hold hands with Shane?” 

“Not really. Unless it’s for a bit. I guess some friends hold hands. I mean, I personally reserve my hand holding for Marielle,” Ryan said. 

“Marielle?”

“My girlfriend.  _ We _ hold hands and, well, I saw you two holding hands and I thought...” Ryan trailed off. “You know. Dating.”

Aziraphale opened his mouth and then closed it again. “I’m sorry. Me and Crowley.  _ Dating _ ?” 

Before Ryan had the chance to try and explain again, Shane and Crowley returned. Whatever had happened between them, the energy was now much more relaxed. The Prince of Hell had an arm slung around Crowley’s shoulder and Crowley was grinning a wide, toothy grin. 

“And then the Anti-Christ said, ‘you’re not my dad’!” Crowley exclaimed. 

Shane slapped his knee and guffawed, “I would have killed to see the old red guy’s face.” 

“All caught up then?” Aziraphale asked, his voice a bit tighter than usual. He was well and truly confused about what Ryan had said about him and Crowley ‘dating’ and now he had lost the chance to ask just what the human had meant by that. Was that what humans thought when they saw him and Crowley together? That they were ‘dating’?

“Oh yeah, I’m definitely up to speed now,” Shane replied. “Nice job with possessing that woman, by the way.”

Aziraphale swallowed. “Wasn’t a problem at all.” 

“You alright, angel?” Crowley mused. 

“Absolutely tickety-boo,” Aziraphale said. 

“Tickety-boo!” Shane echoed. “I love it! I’ll have to remember that one.”

Crowley, on the other hand, couldn’t stop himself from shooting a slightly concerned glance in Aziraphale’s direction. The last time he had said that things had most certainly  _ not  _ been tickety-boo. He would have to wait until they got rid of the humans...or rather the one human and the other demon, before asking him about what he was  _ really  _ feeling, however. 

“You ready to go, Ryan?” Shane asked, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Almost as a reflex, Ryan flinched under the touch. Shane’s smile dropped and he moved his hand away. “Ryan?” 

Ryan stood and threw his backpack over his shoulders, gripping onto the straps so tightly that his knuckles began to turn white. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

“I’m still me, Ryan. This doesn’t change things,” Shane said, for once serious. 

“I…” Ryan began to say ‘I know’ but stopped just short when he realized he didn’t believe it. Not entirely. “I need to lie down,” he sighed. 

Shane nodded. “If you want, I can miracle us back to the hotel.” 

Ryan bit his bottom lip. “I don’t think I could handle that. Let’s just... ” he took a deep breath. “Let’s just get a cab.” 

Shane nodded again. “Sure, buddy.” 

“I’ll call one for you,” Aziraphale said. 

“Thanks,” said Shane and the smile was back. “Angels. The nicest folks. Sometimes I wish I was an angel.” Then he chuckled heartily. “Ahhh I’m just kidding, I love being a demon.”

Shane waited until Ryan had walked out before pausing and turning to face Crowley and Aziraphale. “If I ever get the chance,” he said with the kind of sincerity one would never expect to come from a demon, “I’ll put in a good word for you down in Hell if you’d like.” 

“Nah,” Crowley said. “I’m done with the lot of them. I’ve got all I need right here on earth.” He glanced over at Aziraphale for a moment, then back to the Prince of Hell. “‘Appreciate the offer, though.” 

Shane shrugged. “Suit yourself. Don’t forget to keep in touch. You have my number.” 

And just like that, he was gone. 

Crowley stretched his arms and declared, “I think we’ve both earned the right to a drink, don’t you think, angel?” And he miracled two glasses in one hand and a bottle of Italy’s finest in his other. 

“I would like that,” Aziraphale agreed. He walked over to the entrance, peered through the window to make sure the demon-hunting-human and the Prince of Hell had truly gone before he pulled down the shades and turned the sign from OPEN to CLOSED. He locked the door for good measure. 

“Is the Prince of Hell really called ‘Shane’?” Aziraphale questioned later that night. 

“Of course he isn’t,” Crowley said. By now, he had taken off his sunglasses and was lounging on the couch. “He changed it after he left Hell.” 

Aziraphale nodded. “You two have known each other for a long time,” he commented.

Crowley shrugged. “Give or take. It’s been a while. I wasn’t sure what I was going to get when he showed up.”

“You were quite frightened,” Aziraphale said. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say I was  _ frightened _ .” 

“You were intimidated at least. There’s no shame in it, Crowley.” 

Crowley frowned. “What was wrong with you today? You were shaken after that human interviewed you.” 

“You’re changing the subject,” Aziraphale said doggedly. 

“I’m allowed to,” said Crowley, “when it comes to you.” 

Aziraphale adjusted his bowtie before he, quite uncharacteristically, took down the rest of his glass with one quick swig, refilled the glass and took that down as well. 

“Angel?” 

“The human asked me something… well, he asked me something that I didn’t quite know how to take.”

“Did he hurt you?” Crowley asked, sitting up. 

“No,” Aziraphale said quickly and then he hesitated. “He asked me what it was like dating a demon.” 

For a moment, it was quiet. Aziraphale stared at the floor while Crowley stared at Aziraphale. 

“Oh,” said Crowley after a while. 

“It caught me off guard as I’m sure you can imagine,” Aziraphale said, trying to laugh.

Crowley nodded slowly. 

“I-I mean, it isn’t as if I have ever even  _ thought  _ about it.”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”

“Pardon?”

“Angel, I’ve known you for six thousand years. I can tell when you’re lying.” Crowley softened. “Genuinely. Have you thought about it? Me and you? Like that.” 

Aziraphale closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, filling lungs that didn’t need air, and he let it out. This wasn’t how he had imagined this interaction going. The way he imagined it, was over dinner at their table at the Ritz. Feeding ducks together. Taking a walk in the park, holding hands. Going for a picnic. Not after some intrusive guests had come crashing into his bookshop, forcing him to face emotions too complicated for even he, an angel, to entirely wrap his head around. 

“Yes,” sighed Aziraphale. “I have. I have thought about you like that before. More than once. I’ve thought about you like that ever since the bombs rained down in London and you saved me from those ridiculous Nazis, and  _ the books. _ Ever since you saved my books I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you like that. When I heard you planning a robbery on the church I knew I had no choice but to help you. I would never be able to live with myself if the one that I loved more than anything was destroyed. Not when I could do something about it. Every waking moment I would think about you _like that_ and every moment it tore me apart because _we were on different sides._ But we aren't anymore, we're on our own side, and I don't know what to do. Are you happy?” 

The angel’s eyes were still closed and at this point, he had put down his glass and dropped his head in his hands out of sheer embarrassment. After a moment, there was a hand on his neck and another, gently peeling the angel’s hands back. Aziraphale opened his eyes again. Crowley was sitting very close to him. His pupils were blown bigger than Aziraphale had ever seen them before. 

“Angel, you have no idea how long I have waited to hear you say those words,” Crowley said, his voice quiet and careful. 

“How long?” 

“Since the Garden of Eden, I reckon.”  
Aziraphale just barely choked back a sob. “Really?” 

“Really.”

“Since then?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Crowley teased, though it held no sting. Aziraphale reached out and knotted his hand with Crowley’s. Crowley, in turn, lifted the angel’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I would’ve been ready to wait 6,000 years more if it meant I would get to be with you one day.” 

Aziraphale never saw himself as being bold. He never felt it. Never believed it no matter how many times Crowley told him how brave he was. But at that moment, in that quiet, perfect moment, in the book shop he loved with the demon he loved, Aziraphale, for the first time, truly felt brave. Aziraphale leaned forward, letting his lips collide with Crowley’s. 

"I love you," Aziraphale said, his voice almost a whisper.

Crowley smiled against the angel's mouth. "I love you, too." He placed a hand on the back of Aziraphale's head, burying his fingers in the snowy hair. "We'll figure this out," he promised, "we always do." 

Despite the fact that there was nothing particularly notable going on in London that night, a show of fireworks erupted in the sky.   
  


**One Week Later**

It had been a week and to say that Ryan was avoiding Shane was a bit of an understatement. They hadn’t really spoken since that day in the bookshop and truthfully, Ryan had no idea what there was to say. After all, there wasn’t really a guide on how to react when you find out your best friend is a centuries-old demon. They were back in Los Angeles now and Ryan finally had the time to sit down and think about what they were going to do with this episode, as well as what he was going to do about his friendship with Shane. Before they had left for London, he had already recorded his intro voiceover and at this moment, he was distractedly playing it over and over again. 

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved, we visit A.Z. Fell and Co bookshop in Soho, London, which is said to be home to a demonic presence…” echoed on repeat as he absentmindedly stared at his computer screen without seeing it. 

“Hey, buddy, you alright in here?” Ryan startled sharply at Shane’s voice behind him and turned to look at his friend, who had suddenly appeared behind him. 

“Yeah...yeah, I’m great,” Ryan replied rather unconvincingly, turning off the audio on his computer. “Just...trying to see if we have any material we can use for the episode.”

“I was kind of hoping we could...you know, talk about  _ it _ ,” Shane responded, pulling up a chair to sit beside his friend. 

“ _ It _ ,” Ryan almost scoffed.  _ It  _ was a little bit too big to be called an it if you asked him. But he really couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation, could he? “I just…” he finally sighed, glancing at Shane out of the corner of his eye. “I don’t know where we go from here. You could’ve told me, you know.”

“Yeah that would’ve gone over just swell,” Shane’s reply was laced with sarcasm. “You would’ve whipped out your little bottle of holy water and went to town on me.”

“Shane…” Ryan hesitated before finally turning to look the taller man in the eye. They had been through so much together, investigated so many reports of hauntings and possessions and legends. Through it all, Shane had been a constant, always greeting every new situation with humor and skepticism. If there was one thing Ryan knew, it was that he didn’t want to lose that. “I just want things to go back to how they were before I knew,” he admitted. 

“I can do that if you want,” Shane offered after considering what his friend had said. “I can make it so you don’t...remember?”

“You can?” Ryan looked curiously to Shane, who appeared completely serious and not at all like he was kidding. “I won’t remember that you’re…”

“The Prince of Hell?” Shane supplied with a laugh. “No, you won’t. You won’t remember that the bookshop, the angel, the other demon...you’ll wake up here not knowing why you’re here but it’ll be just like old times.”

“I want that,” Ryan nodded before hastily adding, “But...before you do, can I ask one question?”

“Anything,” Shane replied with more sincerity than Ryan had ever heard from the man.

“Were you ever really my friend?”

“Ryan, do you really think that the  _ Prince of Hell  _ would put up with you if he didn’t like it?” Shane answered with a small shake of his head. “Of course I was your friend. I still am. I still will be.” That was the last thing Ryan heard before everything went dark.

Sometime later, Ryan awoke at his desk with his head down, resting on his keyboard. That was strange. He didn’t remember being at his desk. Why was he even  _ at  _ his desk? He and Shane had only recently finished investigating the Annabelle doll and they were supposed to be researching more locations for the next batch of Unsolved episodes. 

“Oh Ryan,” came Shane’s voice and Ryan sat up, noticing Shane pull up a chair next to him. In his hand was a sheet of paper.

“Whatcha got there?” Ryan asked, reaching for it. It was a list of locations.

“Tips for next season. Lots of ghouls out there,” Shane answered. “You know, I was thinking something.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Ryan didn’t look up from the list, where he was circling the ones that seemed the most interesting.

“This season, how about we  _ don’t  _ do a demon investigation?” This  _ did  _ cause Ryan to look up because it seemed so uncharacteristic for Shane, who loved nothing more than taunting demons and daring them to kill him. 

“First of all,  _ thank God _ , but also...why not?” Shane shrugged.

“Eh, I’m just not feeling it this season. I need a reason to not want to investigate a demon? I thought you’d be relieved seeing as how worked up you get over it.”

“No I am, I am,” Ryan laughed nervously. “No demons this season.” With that, he turned back to the list for next season and began mapping out their latest ghost hunting journey, side-by-side with Shane.

**The Future**

One day between filming episodes of Unsolved, Shane received a phone call from an unknown number. Curiously, he answered, only to find Crawley...or rather Crowley as he apparently preferred now, on the other end of the line.

“Miss me so soon?” Shane teased, but Crowley did not joke back.

“Your Highness,” said Crowley, without a hint of sarcasm. It was in that moment that Shane knew whatever Crowley was calling about was no laughing matter. “There’s something you should know. Something important.”

“What’s that?” Shane asked, lowering his voice to avoid being overheard by anyone around him that might have been listening. 

“There’s something coming,” said Crowley, “something bad. Something big.” 

“What could be bigger than Armageddon?” Shane said. 

“A war. A war between the combined forces of Heaven and Hell and humanity.”

Shane fell silent at this. Could it possibly come to that? All anyone had ever spoken about was the final war between angels and demons, but a war against humanity? Shane glanced around, making sure that no one was watching him before he put a bit of distance between himself and the camera crew.

“How can you be sure?” Shane questioned.

“Both sides worked well enough together when they tried to execute me and Aziraphale for  _ stopping  _ the Apocalypse,” Crowley reasoned. “Besides, it’s only a matter of time before they realize they have more in common with each other than with humanity.” 

Shane’s fingers tightened around the phone. The device was growing hot beneath his grip. “What do you need me to do?” he asked.

“When the time comes, will you stand with us and protect the earth? Will you defend humanity?” 

“Shane!” Ryan called from down the street. “Come on, we’ve got to start filming.”

With his friend in sight, Shane took a deep breath, his heart full and blazing as if a hellfire had been cast in his chest and he said with a conviction that he had never felt before, 

“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading.


End file.
